


soudain ces vampes chantent

by almostprimary



Series: c'est plus fort que moi [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Unrequited Love, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostprimary/pseuds/almostprimary
Summary: "The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love," the doctor explains, tone gentle. "The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals."Kenma swallows thickly.





	soudain ces vampes chantent

**Author's Note:**

> title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIrI_MOfxG0&index=17&list=RDEMZ3zk_hxF-YEGUgn03vYgGQ)

 

 

“I love you,” Kenma says, voice trembling.

 

 

Kuroo looks shocked, mouth agape and eyes wide. He blinks a few times in realization before relaxing his expression.

 

 

“I love you too,” he replies, tone soft, much like the smile his lips curve into.

 

 

_No, you don’t._ Kenma thinks, glancing at the crimson rose petals in his trash can. _But I wish you did._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m sick,” Kenma confesses one night.

 

 

He’s sitting on concrete stairs, knees pulled up to his chest. His chin tucked into the space between his crossed forearms and his brow furrowed.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo says. “I warned you about catching my cold.”

 

 

Kenma sighs. His throat itches and burns. His lungs tighten and squeeze.

 

 

“It’s more serious than a cold,” Kenma mumbles, earning Kuroo’s attention.

 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

 

“It sounds ridiculous,” Kenma says, turning his head in the opposite direction.

 

 

Kuroo doesn’t reply, giving Kenma the time to gather his thoughts.

 

 

“I cough up flower petals,” Kenma rasps, his throat feeling  suddenly  dry, his lungs feeling  suddenly  wet  . “It’s not contagious, don’t worry,” he adds  quickly .

 

 

Kuroo lifts an eyebrow.

 

 

“It’s more of a… genetic disorder,” Kenma lies, tears welling in his eyes.

 

 

Kuroo presses a chaste kiss to Kenma’s head, stroking his hair. Kenma chews on his lip, wanting to push Kuroo away. He wants to scream and say, _This is your fault. I’m like this because of you._

 

 

He doesn’t.

 

 

He coughs  dryly  into a tissue, tainting it with blood and rose petals. He allows tears to stream down his face. He tastes iron and salt and he smells flowers, a pungent floral smell.

 

 

“I love you,” Kuroo says, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend in an attempt to comfort him,  probably .

 

 

Kenma doesn’t have the strength to reply, to protest like he  probably  should. Instead, he coughs  quietly  into a tissue. His chest rises and falls  rapidly . His lungs struggle to expand and take in oxygen because they’re filled with fucking flower pedals. They’re filled with flower petals and it’s all Kuroo’s fault.

 

 

But  really , it isn’t.

 

 

It’s his own fault, Kenma realizes. He was naive, he was greedy. He was the one who let his feelings blossom. Kenma tried to be more than a wallflower, now he’s coughing up petals.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His throat was raw, his breath was short and floral-scented and Kenma was running.  It wasn’t one of his smartest decisions, fleeing from his teammates and getting lost in an unknown prefecture .

 

 

Kenma  eventually  stopped, finding a ledge to sit on and catch his breath. He grabs a tissue from his pocket,  violently  hacking into it as petals rise in his throat. Kenma coughs until he spits out blood, and only then does the barking subside.

 

 

He shuffles around his bag looking for his phone, ready to text Kuroo his location to  be retrieved .

 

 

“What are you doing?” a voice asks, high-pitched and slightly nasally.

 

 

Kenma blinks a few times, looking at the grinning boy approaching and the handful of flower petals in his hand . He crushes the tissue in a clenched fist and settles his eyes on the ground.

 

 

“I’m lost,” he mumbles  quietly .

 

 

“I’m Hinata Shouyou,” the boy replies, his expression not faltering.

 

 

Shouyou is a sweetheart, Kenma decides in their two minutes of conversation. Even if, he’s Kenma’s complete opposite: loud, energetic and passionate. Yet, Kenma can’t help but feel an attraction to him. Something  similar to  a gravitational pull,  maybe .

 

 

When Kuroo arrives on the scene to retrieve his boyfriend, Kenma feels like he’s stepping out of an orbit as he walks away Shouyou .

 

 

But  maybe  that’s a good thing.

 

 

Kenma and Shouyou meet again, as promised.  They cram many practice matches into the day, with minimal amounts of flower petals falling from his lips  . He loses himself  easily  in the game, letting game strategy flood his every thought.

 

 

On the court, Kuroo Tetsurou was not his lover. The thought was almost refreshing. Kenma felt that he could finally breathe. So, he plays volleyball, he keeps his blood flowing, he helps his team win every game. Kenma has an average afternoon,  being allowed  a break from his disease.

 

 

As the sun sets and both teams rush to clean the gym, hell breaks loose.

 

 

Karasuno’s setter is swarming him with questions. _Why did you start playing volleyball, how do you train, do you get along with your teammates, have you ever hit a wall?_

 

 

Every answer leads back to _Kuroo_ , and Kenma feels like he’s  just  been set on fire. He scurries away, eyes instinctively searching for said middle blocker.

 

 

He finds Kuroo  quickly  in the wide gymnasium, positioned beside a middle blocker from Karasuno .

 

 

Kuroo is smirking,  probably  teasing the blond boy in some way.  Kenma feels tension release from his lungs, remembering that provocation is customary to his boyfriend . He watches the boy roll his eyes and walk away, smoothing out the #11 on his jersey.

 

 

Kenma’s eyes settle back on his boyfriend. Kuroo’s smirk widens  slowly  until his lips split apart and colour rushes to his cheeks. A genuine smile dominates Kuroo’s face, a smile that screams love. A smile that Kenma has never seen on his friend’s face in the decade of knowing him.

 

 

Kenma feels his throat tighten and his knees shake as he tries to force the petals out of his lungs. He feels his legs crumple beneath his weight as he hits the gym floor, gasping for breath.

 

 

Black dots consume his vision as he hacks  violently  , thinking: _get them out get them out get them out._

 

 

His head hits the floor  eventually , too. He feels his hair make contact with the pool of saliva and blood on the floor. It’s going to be a real hassle to wash that out, Kenma thinks, gagging on another petal as it rises from his throat.

 

 

_“I love you,”_ Kuroo says from somewhere and his voice sounds like it’s underwater.

 

 

Kenma tries to laugh but instead frees the tears welling in his eyes. He’s plunged into darkness,  just  like  being dropped  in the middle of the ocean.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kenma hates the summer time. Summertime means more volleyball and training camps. Training camp means Karasuno. Karasuno means visiting Shouyou, but Karasuno also means Tsukishima Kei.

 

 

“I’m going to do extra practice with Bokuto and Akaashi,” Kuroo chirps.

 

 

Kenma nods his head.

 

 

“Oh!,” he adds, more enthusiastic than before. “Tsukki says he’ll gonna join, too.”

 

 

“You two seem to be getting closer,” Kenma remarks  dryly , Jealousy pooling in his stomach.

 

 

Kuroo kisses the corner of Kenma’s mouth and ruffles his hair.

 

 

“You’re always welcome to join us,” Kuroo says.

 

 

“I know. Have fun, Kuro,” Kenma replies, smiling.

 

 

He watches Kuroo skip away, clapping an unsuspecting middle blocker on the back and exclaiming “Tsukki !”

 

 

Kenma returns to the team’s sleeping quarters.  He reaches to the bottom of his backpack and retrieves an orange bottle with _“Kozume, Kenma”_ printed on the label . He shakes one pill onto his hand and swallows it dry.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Guess what?” Kuroo asks, bouncing into the living room.

 

 

Kenma raises his eyebrows, keeping his gaze locked on the PSP in his hands.

 

 

“Tsukki  was accepted !”

 

 

Kenma pauses his game. “Accepted for what?” he asks, eyes now trained on his ecstatic boyfriend.

 

 

“Accepted to University! Here, in Tokyo! Isn’t it amazing?” Kuroo grins  widely , eyes shining with emotion.

 

 

Kenma shrugs, ignoring the pang of fear in his chest.  Logically  , he shouldn’t have anything to  be concerned  about. He’s been dating Kuroo for _three_ years. They live together, they sleep in the same bed at night. They’re happy.

 

 

Except, Kenma’s still coughing up petals.

 

 

After losing consciousness at the practice match in his second year of high school, Kenma’s parents made the decision to put him on medication  .  The meds worked too, taming the coughing to a minimum for the small price of exhaustion and the occasional migraine .

 

 

“How have you been feeling?” Kuroo asks, demeanour completely changed.

 

 

“I’m fine,” Kenma says, reply clipped.

 

 

Kuroo stares at him,  silently  encouraging him to speak more.

 

 

“My lungs… always hurt. The doctor said it might be because the medication wasn’t designed for long-term use. There is a surgery they can do… to remove the petals. But…” Kenma pauses, inhaling  shakily  . _It will remove the petals, but it will remove my feelings towards you, too._ “...it seems like too much of a hassle.”

 

 

“Kenma, don’t lie to me.”

 

 

Kenma freezes. Has Kuroo figured out the real origin of hanahaki? It was a half-assed lie, something Kenma had never thought to have lasted this long, anyway.

 

 

Kuroo’s gaze softens and he presses his lips to Kenma’s  gently . “It’s okay if you’re scared.”

 

 

_I’m scared of you finding out the truth._ Kenma thinks. _I’m scared that you love Tsukishima. I’m scared because, after three years, I still haven’t made you fall in love with me. I’m scared to lose my feelings towards you because you’re the only warmth I’ve ever known._

 

 

“I’m scared, Kuro.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**From: Shouyou**

 

 

_hey kenma (づ￣ ³￣)づ_

 

 

_r u free this wknd?_

 

 

**To: Shouyou**

 

 

_Yeah, Kuroo’s leaving to spend some time with his parents._

 

 

**From: Shouyou**

 

 

_do u wnna come down nd hang out?_

 

 

_i gotta new game tht i rly wnna play w u!!!_

 

 

**To: Shoyou**

 

 

_Sure, Shouyou. What time does your Friday practice end?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The train ride to Miyagi was always quite enjoyable. It gave Kenma time to be alone, time to think and time to play on his phone undisturbed.

 

 

Hanging out with Shouyou was also quite enjoyable. He never had a lot of time to be alone, think, or do anything undisturbed.  Still, he indulged himself in Shouyou’s energetic presence, playing games and tossing around a volleyball for a few days .

 

 

On Sunday, Shouyou suggests that they go into town, browse shops or get something to eat.  Kenma shrugs and agrees, putting his rarely-touched driver’s license to use as they climb into Hinata-san’s car .

 

 

Kenma also finds the afternoon quite enjoyable, buying matching friendship bracelets with Shouyou and eating too much cheesecake at a coffee shop .

 

 

They even run into one of the second years from Karasuno’s volleyball club, who gapes at Kenma’s presence, praising him to be “a living legend” (according to ‘Shouyou-senpai’ and ‘Kageyama-senpai’) .

 

 

Kenma blushes and sends a small glare at Shouyou, who only grins and scratches the back of his neck in response.

 

 

“There’s one more place we have to go!” Shouyou insists, giving Kenma directions.  Shouyou brags that _he_ was the one who discovered it, after getting lost in an attempt to bike to Tsukishima's house for a study session .

 

 

Kenma parks the car and allows Shouyou to drag him into a forest, following an undefined gravel path.  He  patiently  listens to Shouyou ramble, talking about school and volleyball, his kouhai on the team this year .

 

 

They soon reach a clearing, a small pond with a large willow tree positioned beside it.  The spread-out branches left gaps between them, allowing patches of sunlight to invade the shaded forest .

 

 

Kenma listens to the birds singing, Shouyou’s words and- the hushed voices on the other side of the tree trunk?

 

 

“ I wonder  who that is?” Shouyou asks, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve never seen any strangers around here before.”

 

 

Kenma inhales  sharply  as two figures emerge from behind the thick tree trunk.  He spots Tsukishima first- cheeks rosy and lips swollen, his features  heavily  insinuating the activities that had  been interrupted .

 

 

He watches shock and guilt consume Kuroo’s expression as their eyes meet, immediately reversing the pink on Kuroo’s cheeks as his entire face blanches .

 

 

“Kuro,” he says, words clipped. “Explain.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Driving back to their apartment was not enjoyable.  The shaking of Kuroo’s hands couldn’t  be blamed  on his old car or the potholes in the road and it was only fuelling Kenma’s anxiety .

 

 

They drive in silence, saving their voices and their spirits for the inevitable disaster heading their way .

 

 

Just  like the calm before a storm, Kenma thinks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kuroo’s eyes dart towards the floor as the tips of his ears burn bright red- that always happens when he lies.

 

 

“Kuro,” Kenma says again, voice quivering. “You know I can read you like a book.”

 

 

Kuroo blinks twice and digs his fingernails further into his palm. Bitter rage boils up in Kenma’s chest. “Fine, don’t say anything,” he snaps.

 

 

He  carefully  stepped over the pieces of broken porcelain on the ground, courtesy of their current fight . Grabbing his coat in one hand and the door handle in the other, Kenma pauses as his boyfriend decides to speak up.

 

 

“Wait,” Kuroo says, silent tears streaming down his face.

 

 

Kenma feels his fingers twitch as his hold on the handle tightens. “Wait for what exactly, Kuro?” His voice comes out in a shaky purr, upturned eyes burning with anger. “ _What_ do I have left to wait for? I’ve been waiting for three years, waiting for you to fall in love with me.”

 

 

Kenma fights his gag reflex and the floral taste in his mouth. “Do you know why I’ve been coughing up flower petals? Hanahaki disease. Manifests from unrequited love.”

 

 

“I know,” Kuroo says, voice hoarse.

 

 

Kenma’s eyes flicker up to look at his boyfriend’s face. Kuroo meets his eyes, expression guilty and nervous.

 

 

Kenma turns the door handle, stomping out of the apartment. He slams the door behind him and takes off down the hallway, refusing to look behind him.

 

 

He only makes it to the staircase before collapsing, hacking up his lungs. He learns his weight onto his wrists, fingers bawled up into a fist so tight his knuckles turn white. Kenma bows his head close to the floor, placing his forearms flat on the cool tile. He continues to wheeze, too distracted to notice the footsteps approaching.

 

 

“Breathe,” Kuroo whispers,  gently  placing a hand on Kenma’s shoulder.

 

 

His vision blurs  slightly  as Kenma whips his head around, rage pumping through his veins. Sweat seeps through the pores on Kenma’s face, dripping onto the ground.

 

 

“ _Fuck_ _off,_ ” he seethes through his teeth, picking himself off of the ground. “  Just  \- fuck you. Fuck you, Kuro.”

 

 

Kenma thinks he might get sick- his stomach is twisting at an alarming rate. He ignores the nausea and runs away on shaky legs, cursing Kuroo’s name.

 

 

He makes sure to listen for any footsteps following him, but besides his own wheezing, there is silence .

 

 

He manages to make it to the coffee shop down the street, before doubling over the public restroom toilet and heaving  . He takes a minute to catch his breath, head now throbbing. Kenma leans the back of his head against the stall door, looking up at the ceiling  wistfully .

 

 

When Kenma steps out of his Uber and up to the front step of his house, the tears have finally stopped flowing.  His younger brother answers the door, pestering him with and teasing him with questions of _Dropped out of university already_ _?_ and _Why are your eyes so red? Are you stoned or something?_

 

 

He shoves his brother to the side and drags his feet to the kitchen in search of his mother.

 

 

His mother’s face  is terrified  , her eyes wide and her hands shaking. _“Kenma!”_ she  barely  has a chance to call out before she’s wrapping her arms around him. Kenma cries again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**To: Tetsurou**

 

 

_I have surgery on Saturday. 10:00 am._

 

 

**From: Tetsurou**

 

 

_Where did you go?_

 

 

**To: Tetsurou**

 

 

_Home._

 

 

**From: Tetsurou**

 

 

_I’m sorry, Kenma._

 

 

**_Read, 23:47_ **

 

 

* * *

 

 

The days leading up to Saturday pass in a blur, but Kenma doesn’t find that to be too bad of a thing. His parents and brother  accompany  him to the hospital. A doctor introduces herself, before proceeding to explain the surgery.

 

 

The words incision and removal and antibiotics echo in his head as he nods  mindlessly  .  The doctor excuses herself a few minutes later, saying that nurses will soon come and do more preparations .

 

 

Kenma’s brother whispers something to his parents and they frown, before bidding their goodbyes and wishes of good luck to their son . They all leave the hospital room and Kenma is alone.

 

 

That is, until Kuroo shuffles into the room,  guiltily  avoiding eye contact with his hands shoved into his pockets .

 

 

Kenma purses his lips and blinks  slowly  ,  expectantly  . Kuroo opens his mouth to say something, but nurses rush into the room.  They mutter to each other saying, _we’re behind schedule_ and _he should already have started the_ anesthetic .

 

They  politely  ask Kuroo to leave the room. Kuroo nods his head a bit, finally settling his eyes to stare at Kenma. “You know, I do love you,” Kuroo says, voice unwavering.

 

 

The nurses take the lock off of the wheels on the hospital bed and push it towards the door. Kenma gathers  all of  his courage and smiles, a small, troubled smile.

 

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

 

Kenma coughs  weakly  as he loses sight of Kuroo’s shocked expression and watery eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yaku and Yamamoto knock on the door of Kuroo’s apartment two weeks later.

 

 

“We’re here to get his things,” Yaku explains with a small smile.

 

 

Kuroo shrugs his shoulders and finds a few dented cardboard boxes,  silently  packing up Kenma’s clothes, his video games, his books .

 

 

Yamamoto places a hand on his former captain’s shoulder and takes the box from his hands, offering to do all the labour .

 

 

Kuroo obliges, shuffling out of the once-shared bedroom. He finds Yaku sitting on the arm of the couch arms crossed.

 

 

“I fucked up,” Kuroo speaks finally, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

 

“You’re not the only one who’s responsible,” Yaku replies. “He’s recovering fine if you were wondering” he adds.

 

 

Kuroo lets out a shaky breath and grins, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “He’s never going to talk to me again, is he?”

 

 

“Kenma isn’t the type to give you a map to the road of redemption.”

 

 

“That was so cheesy,” Kuroo laughs,  weakly .

 

 

* * *

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_How are you recovering?_

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_I haven’t seen you around campus for a while._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_Tsukki moved in today. I thought you might have wanted to know._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_Can we meet up? I want to give you a proper apology._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_I went to your house today. Your brother turned me away at the door._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_I’m graduating today, not sure if I’ll apply to grad school yet._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_I’m going to propose to him. You’re still my best friend, I thought you might have wanted to be the first to know._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_The wedding’s in April. I know it’s extremely  inappropriate, but I wanted to ask you to be my best man. _

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_Tsukki says that he’s sorry._

_and that he’s sorry for not apologizing until now._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_I’m a married man, Kenma._

 

 

**From: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_Congrats, Kuro. I’m happy for you. Sorry I couldn’t make it._

 

 

**To: Kozume Kenma**

 

 

_No worries, I understand._

 

 

_**Read, 9:03.** _

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/uncensoredblues)
> 
>  
> 
> first chapter of the sequel is up.


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